Safe from my Nightmare
by OzzyTheNinja
Summary: Alistair laces Dean with African dream root, sending him into a nightmare in which he's stuck in Hell again. Cas and Sam invade Dean's dream to save him, but by then he's lost touch with reality. DESTIEL


Five seconds. Only five seconds of being pain free, before all that would get Dean through was looking forward to the next time he could enjoy these five blissful seconds. Sure enough, Alistair's evil, smug face appeared above him in no more than five seconds. A hatred like no other boiled in Dean's gut.

"Ready to take my offer yet?" he hissed.

Dean spat in his face. "Never!"

Alistair laughed maniacally as he wiped off his face. "You still have some fight left I see. That's ok. I do enjoy a challenge."

Dean's heart sped up. He knew what was coming. His body tensed in dread. A piercing scream ripped through his chest as Alistair cut his hand clean off with a machete…

Xxxxx

He was whole again, somehow snapped back together for another short five seconds before that bastard showed up. He shut his eyes, and a couple seconds later he felt a presence over him. _Here we go again._

"Dean."

His eyes flew open. It wasn't Alistair standing above him. It was... Cas? No, Cas wasn't real. This had to be a trick! A sick, new torture thought up by that black-eyed son of a bitch!

"Dean, we don't have much time. Sam is stalling Alistair."

"You're not real, you're not real," Dean whimpered, closing his eyes again. This must have been another one of his delusions, his fantasies as a way to cope with the constant torture. Last time, he imagined that an angel named Castiel saved him from here, but that's all he remembered. He buried the rest of those precious memories when he learned they were all fake. Alistair made sure to make that little fact clear: He had never left this place.

Cas untied him and attempted to lift him to a standing position, but Dean resisted. "Get away! You're not real, there's no point," he slurred.

"Dean, it's me!" Cas exclaimed, his blue eyes wide with panic. "Come on, you have to wake up, Dean! You're dreaming!"

"What?" Dean asked, sure that this was still one of Alistair's tricks. "You're lying! You're not real," he insisted. He preferred regular torture than being teased with false hope. He made that mistake once already.

Cas grabbed his face in his hands. "Dammit, Dean! I'm _not_ going to let you die. Look at me. I'm real. I saved you from the real Hell once, and this is _not_ it. This is your own head, now take control or wake up!"

Dean wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that Castiel, an angel, was real. "I'm dreaming?"

"Yes! Alistair laced you with dream root. You have to trust me, please!" He tightened his grip on Dean's face, his expression that of a desperate man. "I'm not letting you die here. You're more than just my charge, Dean. I love you! Now please wake up!"

When Dean didn't respond Cas looked like he was going to cry, and then suddenly he leaned in and kissed Dean roughly, determined. A rush of memories played in his mind the moment their lips met, memories of them together: the first time Dean met him; the time they talked all night on a stake-out and Cas confessed he was different than other angels. He had doubts, he'd disobeyed in the past, he experienced human emotion; when Cas tentatively held Dean's hand for the first time. He was trying to make Dean feel better after he got back from the year 1973, when he failed to stop his mom's death; their first kiss in the impala while it was raining; when Cas would secretly visit him in his dreams so they had some privacy.

"Cas?!" Dean yelled as it all came back to him. How could he forget Cas? How could he forget his angel? Dean hugged him tightly for only a couple seconds before he jerked awake to reality. He sat up, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimly-lit motel room. Next to him Sam bolted upright. "Dean! Thank God!" he hugged him.

"Dude, I hate dream root," Dean joked weakly as he stood up. Only then did he notice Cas standing at he end of the bed.

"Dean," he said lowly, his eyes intense with emotion.

Dean ran and embraced him. "Cas…" he breathed. Again he asked himself how he could possibly forget him, forget this feeling he had whenever he was with him, forget his smell, his trench coat…. He pulled back and softly placed his hand on the side of Cas's face. Cas looked at him shyly, a light blush rising in his cheeks. Dean smiled at that and leaned in for a slow, soft kiss before whispering, "Thank you."

In response Cas kissed him again, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and pulling him closer. He gasped at the feeling of Cas pressed against him. Ok, no way he could ever forget _that_ again.

Somewhere in the hazy background Dean heard Sam laugh and say, "I guess I'll just leave you two alone, then…"


End file.
